


Type

by Zelda Ophelia (ZeldaOphelia)



Category: CSI: New York
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-09
Updated: 2009-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 23:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaOphelia/pseuds/Zelda%20Ophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her type was currently flirting with some investment banker type, though the looks she kept sending Aiden over the rim of her glass suggested it wouldn't last for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Type

**Author's Note:**

> For trialia's 2008 fandom stocking.

She'd meant it when she'd said that Danny wasn't in her league. Oh he was a great guy, fun to work with and hang out with. Great to have a your back in a tight spot. Even more fun to flirt with, though they'd established very early on that was all they'd be doing. And after Mac fired her, when the new girl arrived, she realized pretty early on that was where his interest really lie. Even if he still hadn't yet figured it out for himself.

Yeah, Danny was great for a laugh and he knew how to appreciate a good chicken parm. But he definitely wasn't her type.

Her type was currently flirting with some investment banker type, though the looks she kept sending Aiden over the rim of her glass suggested it wouldn't last for long. Thankfully, because she could only ignore the lawyer droning on to her about himself for just so much longer.

To the casual observer the it looked like two friends having a girls night out. To the not so casual observer (which was the reason they'd never taken their dance to Mac's club, because they _knew_ his stance on relationships in the work place; it was one thing if he never figured it out on his own in the lab, it was something entirely different to flaunt it in front of him) their looks and touches, their laughter as they leaned their heads together to almost touching, those told an entirely different story.

A story she really wanted to get back to, picking up where they'd left off their last night out together. Another quick glance at Stella suggests she felt the same way, her eyes less amused and more annoyed when they met this time. Turning back to her conversation partner, Aiden twirled her (empty) martini glass between her fingers and suppressed the urge to yawn while mentally detailing all the ways of killing someone she'd seen while a CSI. She was up to method of murder number 11 (small pointy weapon such as an ice pick to vulnerable locations such as the eyes) when she could see someone approach them through her peripheral vision.

"Excuse me," the voice of her salvation cut in as Stella joined them. "I hope you don't mind if I steal my friend away."

The lawyer looked a little disappointed, at least until he spotted a blond giving him the eye from the bar. As he left them, Stella turned to her and said, "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

"Are you kidding? I was this close to stabbing that guy with the toothpick from my martini. Then I realized it would have been a waste of a good olive."

"I thought you didn't like olives."

"I don't, but _you_ do." Aiden gave Stella a sly glance out of the corner of her eye as she slid her glass across the table. Stella grinned as she fished the toothpick speared olive out of the glass and lifted it to her lips, her tongue wrapping around the fruit and dragging it into her mouth.

"So," Stella said, leaning close and wrapping an arm around Aiden's waist. "What do you say we get out of here?"

She was leaning in so close her hair brushed against Aiden's ear and the faintest trace of the perfume she spritzed on hours ago drifted past her nose. Aiden responded with a grin that promised many things, including the fact neither would get much sleep tonight. "Yes, lets."


End file.
